


Harvest Festival

by Larkawolfgirl



Series: FFXV Advent Calendar [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Advent Calendar Drabble, Dancing, Festivals, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-09 21:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12897291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larkawolfgirl/pseuds/Larkawolfgirl
Summary: Ignis asks Prompto to dance with him at the Harvest Festival.





	Harvest Festival

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Festival

Plastering yet another fake, grandiose smile onto his face, Ignis turned to yet another arguably attractive young woman. This is the continuous game of such festivals and celebrations. Fake diplomacy with all state officials and feign interest in all bachelorettes. Frankly, it was exhausting and easily killed the otherwise pleasant atmosphere of celebrations. The Harvest Festival was only an hour in, and he was already feeling tiredness seeping into him. Usually, he would seek out Noctis or Gladiolus to alleviate himself from these diplomatic duties for a time, but this year, Noctis was participating in the sacred rites alongside his father, and Gladiolus was required to stand by during them. He would just have to push through the tediousness.

After speaking with an overly chatty redhead with thick curls and an even thicker laugh, he spotted Noctis’ friend Prompto. Ignis had nearly forgotten he was in attendance, given how much last minute planning and conferences he had dealt with this week. As expected, the poor boy looked extremely lost and uncomfortable. Yet, as Ignis noticed with a tiny smile, he did not look out of place, clad in the new black suite Noctis had insisted on giving him to wear to this very event.

“Please, if you would excuse me,” Ignis announced, cutting the woman off mid-sentence.

“Ah, I..” She blinked, apparently confused that anyone would find anything more interesting than herself. “Yes, of course.” She smiled brightly placing an unappreciated hand to his forearm.

Ignis discreetly moved out of her grasp with a bow. “Thank you. I hope you continue to enjoy the festivities.”

Prompto noticed his approach half-way there and flashed a grateful smile. The change was night and day, from lost puppy to bright-eyed child. “Hello, Prompto. I hope you are not straining yourself.”

“Oh, no,” he squeaked as he scanned the vast crowd. “This isn’t exactly my scene, but it’s still cool.”

“That is good to hear. Still, you do not appear to be enjoying yourself.”

Prompto hunched his shoulders and back. “I’m not the best in crowds. I agreed because I thought I would get to hang out with Noct so it wouldn’t be too bad, but he’s indisposed, so…”

“Might I fill in in his stead?”

“You? Uh, yeah, I’d appreciate it.”

“Oh, no, I should be thanking you for granting me the perfect opportunity to avoid any more troublesome advances for the night.”

Prompto’s eyes widened. “All those women were hitting on you?”

“I dare say, I am what one might call,” he paused to adjust his glasses, “a great catch.”

Prompto laughed, reaching a hand out to touch where the redhead had earlier. Ignis did not move away this time. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Who wouldn’t be interested in someone refined like you?”

“Hmm.” Ignis pondered a response to this. “Someone with a liking for cute rays of sunshine like yourself.”

The tips of Prompto’s ears turned a slight shade of pink at this comment. “What? No! No one would pick me over you.”

“That is debatable. However, might _I_ be so bold as to ask you to be my dace partner? I do love dancing at these sorts of events, but dancing with one of these fair ladies always leads to misunderstandings.” This was an understatement. A few years back, one dance with the Lady Gertrude Villentine had resulted in her presuming that they were engaged and spreading false rumors of this fact that had taken him months to clear up.

Prompto averted his eyes down to his spotless dress shoes (another gift from Noctis). “I’ve never danced before. Ballroom dancing, I mean.”

Ignis extended his hand. “That is not a problem. I do not mind teaching you.”

Prompto looked hesitant, but finally nodded and took the offered hand. It was warm in Ignis’ own.

It took about ten minutes for Prompto to become comfortable enough for them to perform one of the simple court dances without instruction. They sprayed together, bodies close, Ignis’ hands placed on Prompto’s waist while the blonde’s hung over his shoulder. It was perhaps a more intimate dance than he would have ever chosen to dance with one of his would-be-prospects, but he knew Prompto. Not well, as Noctis did, but he was comfortable with him. He also missed this type of slow dancing with a passion—not having danced such since Noctis’ tenth birthday when it was still deemed acceptable behavior between advisor and prince.

Dancing with Prompto was quickly becoming addicting. The way he felt this close against him, the way he could feel the shake of his laughter, the way he could make out every single freckle peppering his pale face and lose himself in the blues of his eyes. If he had to describe it in a term, it was like dancing with the sun.

All too soon, Regis’ voice called a stop to the live orchestra. All attendees turned their attention to the dais to watch the king and prince enact the yearly harvest ritual, Ignis reluctantly stepped an appropriate distance away. Only a minute later, though, he felt Prompto touching his arm again. And again, Ignis did not move away from the touch.


End file.
